A Small Request
by XIV.XV
Summary: Vincent has a question for Yuffie, but has trouble asking her. VincentxYuffie.
1. The Decision

**A Small Request **

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **This isn't my usual oneshot and was hard for me to write Yuffie's name instead of my own, lol. More chapters coming soon. Please Review!

* * *

Vincent ran a hand through his hair, sighing audibly. He was always so calm when out in the field or in the mists of battle sighting down the barrel of his Cerberus at his opponent, so why was he so nervous now? His current mission was his own and was not life threatening in any way, save for a major shift in his living habits if he happened to come out of it successful. He wanted to accomplish this task more than any others that he had before, but he was deathly afraid to the point where he felt that he just may step out of his decision. 

He was pacing his length of his bedroom and cursing himself. Why was he so incompetent in this area? Why was he so scared? Growling, he sat down on his bed and shoved his hands into his thick mane of hair. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. It did not help. He was still shaking. Taking a deep breath, he began to review the past events leading up to this point in his life.

_Vincent was not quite sure as to when it happened, but he had fallen for the young ninja from Wutai. Yuffie seemed to get under his skin and stay there, leaving him confused. At points she was too active, too annoying, but then again she was sweet , caring, and was genuinely concerned for his welfare. He was oddly fascinated by her personality and found himself opening up to her before he himself knew what was happening. She knew more about him than anyone else and yet she still accepted him. Yuffie did not shy away or re-label him as a monster. She simply just smiled at him and kept up with her quest to find out more about his mysterious past. _

_In the end, Vincent fell hard for her. He was, however, awkward in relationships, thus he never expressed his feeling verbally to her. He did try to convey them through other means such as smiles and small touches, but the girl never got them. Apparently she was the kind of person that needed to have it thrust in her face. At this Vincent was unsure of how to go about. He was not the type of person just to come out and say it, but he knew he wanted the companionship. _

_He did not have to worry much about that, however, because before he had the chance to even go about revealing his feelings, she told him hers first. _

His cell phone began vibrating next to him on his bed. He glanced down at it in disgust. Picking it up, he peered at the caller id. Cid. Vincent cursed the pilot's name before hitting 'ignore.' He did not want to deal with the potentially drunk Highwind at all right now and thus stood and stretched. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the sun just setting. How long had he sat in thought?

The dying rays of the sun caught the small box that was sitting on the nightstand near his bed. This little box was the source of all of Vincent's worries and frustrations. He glared at it, but only half heartedly. It was as if the tiny case was the legendary Pandora's Box, bringing all this trouble but awarding some small hope. He sighed and picked it up, flipping it open. A beautiful engagement band sat cushioned within, sparking even in the dim light.

Vincent wanted to marry Yuffie, his little angel, but was too nervous to ask. The ring was actually several weeks old. He couldn't understand why something as small as a ring could change a person's entire life.

Shaking his head, he picked up his cell phone and went through the contacts. Yuffie's number appeared on the small screen and Vincent's hand tightened around the box, shutting it once again. He wanted to be by her side more than ever, wanted to be there for her when she needed him as she had been for him. He wanted to make her happy.

Vincent was finally going to propose.

He already knew where he was going to take her, where he was going to ask her, for he had quite a while to plan it out. All he needed was to muster up the courage to ask her out. Taking in a deep breath, he cleared his mind of any horrible thoughts of rejection, then let it out slowly. He pressed 'send' and held it up to his ear.

Yuffie answered, a bit groggy. "Vinnie?"

It was now or never. "Yuffie? I have something to ask you. . ."


	2. It Starts

**A Small Request**

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **Chapter two! Yay! Anyway, Vincent's going to find out that this is going to be harder than he thinks. More to come soon. Please review!

* * *

He already knew where he was going to take her, where he was going to ask her, for he had quite a while to plan it out. All he needed was to muster up the courage to ask her out. Taking in a deep breath, he cleared his mind of any horrible thoughts of rejection, then let it out slowly. He pressed 'send' and held it up to his ear. 

Yuffie answered, a bit groggy. "Vinnie?"

It was now or never. "Yuffie? I have something to ask you. . ."

"What is it?" There was an audible yawn on the other end. He must have woken her up.

". . .Yuffie, will you-"

There was a beep in his ear. Blinking in confusion, he pulled the phone away from him and peered down at the tiny contraption. Vincent had yet to figure out how the damn thing worked. On the screen was 'Call Waiting.' It was Cid again. The gunner let out a small growl. The stupid idiot sure had bad timing.

"-ncent?"

Yuffie was speaking again. Vincent quickly hit 'ignore' and returned to the conversation, grumbling obscenities under his breath.

"Vincent? Are you there?"

Vincent nodded. "Yes."

"You wanted to ask me something, then you kinda went away. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, I am alright. I apologize."

"It's okay," she let out a small giggle. "Now what was your question?"

"I wanted to know-"

It beeped again. Vincent wanted to strangle Cid. He pressed 'ignore.'

". . .Yes?"

Then it beeped again. What the hell did Cid want?

Sighing, he said: "Yuffie, I will have to call you back."

"Oh, alright Vinnie," She sighed slightly. "But can it wait until tomorrow?"

". . .I will call you tomorrow, then. Good-bye."

"Bye bye, Vinnie."

She hung up, leaving Vincent in the silence of his room. The cell phone rang shortly after, the screen displaying Cid Highwind as the caller. He stared at it for a quick moment, then hit 'send.'

"Yo, Vincent!"

Vincent was right about Cid being drunk.

"What do you want?"

"Guess what, guess what?!"

". . .What?"

"I 'ave great 'ews, buddy!"

"What is it, Cid," he felt a headache coming on.

"Shera's pregnant!"

Vincent nearly dropped the phone. Oh, dear gods. . .He was not serious, was he? Thousands of thoughts consisting of Cid being a father raced through his head, all of them bad. There were just some things that should not happen and Vincent considered this one of those said things.

". . .You are. . .kidding, right?"

"Nope! I's gonna be a daddy!" Cid was truly excited. "An' ya know what?"

"What, Cid?" Vincent could not handle another scare.

"I's gonna 'ame it after you!"

". . ."

"Vincent Cid Highwind, yuppers!"

". . ."

"Jus' wanted ter tell you the 'ews!"

". . ."

"Okies, talk ter you 'ater! I 'ave ter tell everybody else!"

". . ."

"Bye, buddy!"

Cid hung up. Vincent stood in the middle of his room, eyes wide with disbelief. The drunken pilot was an expecting father? Oh, how he feared for that child.

Running a hand through his hair, he set the phone down and laid back on his bed. Yuffie came back into his mind, smiling brightly and teasingly. Cid had interrupted his important call, the call that was going to set off all the events that could have led to his engagement. Sighing, he stared longingly at the box.

For several weeks it had sat in the drawer in the nightstand next to his bed. It had sat patiently, awaiting the moment when it could shine in glory on the ring finger of Yuffie's left hand. Vincent momentarily wondered if he would ever get the chance to reveal it.

Yuffie had asked him to call tomorrow.

Thus, he would ask her tomorrow.

He still had a chance.

Vincent eventually drifted off to sleep, hope still with him.


	3. Of Imagination and Location

**A Small Request**

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **The third chapter! Yay! It's a bit longer than the other two, lol. Anyway, the next chapter should bring about their meeting (at last!) and Vincent asking. . . Please review! I'd greatly appreciate it.

* * *

Yuffie had asked him to call tomorrow. 

Thus, he would ask her tomorrow.

He still had a chance.

Vincent eventually drifted off to sleep, hope still with him.

Vincent woke up later than usual the next day, a migraine already pounding its way into recognition. They seemed to be coming more frequently now and he could never seem to find a way to put an end to them. So, while groaning, he stood up slowly which allowed the blankets to spill over his body and splash down onto the bed. He walked to the bathroom carefully and opened the medicine cabinet, greedily grabbing a bottle of pain relievers. Needless to say, he downed the recommended dosage in no time flat.

Sighing, he leaned over the sink to steady himself until the pills took their affect. Eventually his body would acclimate to the drug so he would have to go find another remedy for his growing problem. It took several minutes, but Vincent could finally think without his brain feeling as if it were due to explode. Thus he began his normal routine.

He had slept in approximately two to three hours past his norm, which was odd because he rarely slept at all. Being locked in a coffin that was hidden away in the basement of the Shinra Mansion for twenty three years all the while sleeping would do that to a person. Tilting his head up, he could make out his reflection in the mirror.

Despite the long black hair, he still appeared as he had before Hojo had shot him then mutilated his body. His skin was ghostly pale, causing his crimson eyes to sparkle with almost a surreal glow. His hair added to the mounting image of him resembling a vampire. It did not help that he did not like the light. Or people.

And Cid did like to joke about Yuffie being a young virgin.

Shaking his head slowly, Vincent showered and changed. The sun was already high in the sky, so he did not draw back the curtains. Instead he chose to stare at the tiny box that sat innocuously on his bedside table. It had become a sort of habit, him picking up the ring and examining it, partially because he marveled at how such a tiny object could weigh so heavily on one's mind. He was also amazed at how one simple ring could change a man's life forever.

Setting it back in its place, Vincent scooped up his phone and, in turn, stared at that. Yuffie had told him to call today, but he had no clue at what time. Would Yuffie still be sleeping? The girl did like to nap. Perhaps that was why she was always full of such energy? Okay, so the morning was out. Vincent did not want to risk waking the young ninja out of fear that he would be the cause of a bad mood and would therefore be rejected of his invitation.

The afternoon.

But what time?

What if Yuffie slept in?

Gods, this was difficult. How was he suppose to know when the right time would be? He was. . .Well, Vincent for one. Hermit, for another. Broken. Hopeless. He growled slightly. He was not really a man, at least, not fully. He had a monster festering inside his heart and he could not bring himself to tear it out.

Why wasn't he good enough?

The thought had crossed his mind on several occasions. Who did he think he was any way, thinking that he could make his love happy? For all he knew, he was busted mentally and most probably physically as well. Hojo would have sterilized him out of spite, right?

After all, it was not like Vincent really tried to figure out if he was or not.

Running a hand through his hair, his mind fell back onto his current predicament, pushing his old struggles to the dark recesses of his mind where they belonged. What time? He vaguely wondered if women were meant to be this confusing.

But he knew that it would probably be worth it in the end.

How about three? That should be sufficient enough time for her to get up and around. Three was a safe bet. Thus, he awaited almost impatiently for the heavenly time to come.

When it did come, however. . .

There was no answer. The phone rung perhaps once, then sent him straight to her voice mail:

"Hi. . .This is Yuffie!" Gods, was she so cheerful, "I'm obviously not at my phone right now, or just don't care to answer you, so leave a message and I will get back to you!"

Vincent blinked. This was not like her. Yuffie always was there to answer her phone, almost like the contraption was glued to her hand. What was going on?

He pulse shot up quickly. What if something happened to her? He would not be able to forgive himself at all if that were to be the case. What if someone crept into her window, took a pillow, doused it with chloroform. . .

His imagination was getting the better of him, which was also a shock. He had not thought that way since he was a young and inexperienced Turk. He soon learned that that kind of thinking got a man killed.

So he sat down on his bed and began a short meditation routine. That normally calmed him down. And it did, while also giving him a possible solution.

Vincent was not the only person Yuffie called seemingly nonstop.

Picking up his phone once again, he carefully found the contact he was searching for and pressed 'send.' The phone rang for a few moments before someone picked up.

"Hello?" It was the voice of a young girl.

"Marlene?"

The girl cooed. "Hello, Vinnie."

Only two girls were allowed to use his pet name, Yuffie and Marlene. Anyone else with that word on their lips would suffer a slow and painful death. . .Or just be subjected to a lot of glaring. But Marlene was not the person Vincent had in mind to obtain the information that he needed.

"Is Tifa available to talk?"

Marlene giggled. "I'll go get her, 'kay? It'll only be a sec."

With that he heard the click of the receiver gently being set onto a table and the sound of small footsteps hurrying off. After a few minutes, he heard the harsh sounds of a phone scrapping against paper and table as well as a distinctive 'hello.'

"Tifa?"

"Yes, Vincent. Is everything alright? It's unlike you to call when I'm in the middle of work."

"Yes, and I apologize, but I want to ask you a question."

"Okay, shoot."

"Do you have any idea as to the whereabouts of Yuffie?"

Tifa giggled. Vincent mentally thanked the Gods that she could not see the blush that had crept to his cheeks and settled.

"Oh, I see," he heard more scratching, which he determined was her adjusting the phone. "She's here in Midgar."

"Oh?"

"You see, she managed to break her charger so her phone died and she was out of luck in charging it. So she's here, buying another cord."

That made a lot more sense than Vincent's assassin. Who would want to kill her anyway?

Oh, right. All the materia collectors, for the most part.

"Thank you."

"You are most certainly welcome. Is there anything else that I could help you with?"

"No, that was all."

Giggling once more, she said: "Okay, Vincent. I'm going to head back to work now, so I'm going to say bye. Hope to hear from you again. Bye!"

"Good-bye," and Vincent hung up, embarrassed with himself for having jumped to such preposterous conclusions. Gathering up his cloak, he left his room and started off towards Midgar.

It was nearly four in the afternoon, so he had time. He would find her and ask her out face to face so that interruptions would not be a problem.

Cell phones, drunk expecting fathers, no one would come between him and his mission.

After all, he was in love and he was not about to let anything take her away from him.


	4. A Moment Alone

**A Small Request**

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **Chapter four! Anyway, thanks for all the reviews! I really appreciate them and they motivate me to write more. Enjoy!

* * *

It was nearly four in the afternoon, so he had time. He would find her and ask her out face to face so that interruptions would not be a problem. 

Cell phones, drunk expecting fathers, no one would come between him and his mission.

After all, he was in love and he was not about to let anything take her away from him.

The door to the Seventh Heaven opened easily as Vincent stepped into it. The room was heavily laden with smoke and there was the stench of alcohol which burned his nostrils, but he paid no mind to it all and instead made his way over to Tifa. He also ignored all the drunk quips about his appearance, for the drunkards thought him to be a vampire come there to drink their blood.

Tifa glanced up, then smiled warmly.

"Vincent!" she finished mixing a drink and held it out for the awaiting man, then turned her attention back to him. "I didn't expect you to come here."

He shook his head. "I was not planning it."

Her eyes lit up and a knowing smirk crossed her lips. "She isn't here, but she'll be back. I sent her out to get some things for me."

Vincent nodded. Tifa giggled.

"C'mon, take a seat and let me get you a drink. It'll be on the house."

Vincent ordered and Tifa filled it, then turned back to her duties. He sipped the drink slowly, his mind lost in thought. He was definitely nervous, but he was far too lost in the situation to pull himself out. . .Nor did he particularly wished to. A quick scan of the room revealed just out packed it was: every seat in the small bar was taken. Mostly by men who wanted to get away from their troubles by drowning them in drink. The sad bit of that was that it never lasted. . .The pain always came back and, most of the time, with a vengeance.

Staring down at his own drink, he silently envied them. He lacked the capability to get drunk, for the amount of mako and alterations that his body went through prevented it. Sometimes he wished he could get away from it all, away from all his worries and pains, away from this life. . .

He did not have long to ponder this, however, because a voice full of hyperactivity and a job well accomplished called out: "Tifa! I'm back!"

Vincent turned to see Yuffie toting two grocery bags full. He quickly leapt to his feet and to her aid. She blinked in confusion at him, no doubt wondering as to why he was here, but shrugged it off and thanked him for his help. Tifa smiled at them when they sat the bags down, then shooed them off why saying something about orders to fill. Yuffie turned to Vincent and grinned.

"Whatcha doing here, Vinnie?"

Vincent stared down at her for a moment, then replied: "I came looking for you."

"Oh!" She smiled more, which Vincent thought was impossible. "What for?"

"Can we step out? I wish to speak with you in private."

Yuffie nodded and led him out of the bar and away from all the rowdy conversations and activity. The sun was beginning to set, showing streaks of red forming across the sky swirled with golds and pinks. The young woman giggled beside him.

"The sunset is always so beautiful, isn't it Vince?" She peered over at him. Vincent gave a quick nod, then peered off at the horizon.

"Now what was it that you wanted?"

Before another word could be spoken, Vincent leaned down and kissed the girl. Yuffie, caught off guard, was pleasantly surprised. She kissed him back, her hands reaching up to allow her fingers to intertwine in his hair. It lasted for a bit, before Vincent broke it off and rested his forehead against hers. He now had her full, undivided attention. . .And curiosity.

"Yuffie, I wanted to know if you would allow me to take you out one night."

She giggled. "You want to ask me out on a date?"

". . .Yes."

Yuffie smiled. "Of course I would love to go out with you, silly!"

Vincent wanted to die of relief then. The first phase of his mission was complete, but that still left the most important part. Her fingers twirled strands of his black hair around playfully. Gods, he loved it when she did that.

"What time?"

"Pardon?"

"What time do you have in mind?"

"Would Saturday be alright for you?" She nodded. "I will pick you up at six in the evening."

Yuffie nodded. "I should be here for a while, so that's no problem."

Vincent gave her a small smile, which she returned. The door to the bar opened and Tifa appeared.

"Would you mind helping me a bit more, Yuffie? It's so rambunctious today, for once."

Yuffie nodded and Tifa went back in to tend to her customers. She looked back at Vincent with a small sigh.

"I have to go."

"I heard."

"I'll see you on Saturday, then?"

He nodded, then bent down and planted a small kiss on her lips. "I love you, Yuffie."

"I love you, too."

His heart leapt at that, as it had done every other time she had said it. For a moment all doubts in his mind disappeared and he was sure of himself.

"Bye, bye," Yuffie gave a small wave and vanished back into the building, leaving Vincent to himself.

He felt oddly empty with her gone, but nevertheless he started his way back to Kalm alone, hoping that it would be the last time that he would have to. Now that the day was set, he had to prepare for it. He was going to ask her. The thought sent a wave of butterflies in his stomach, he was so nervous. But he was resolute in his mission. He was going to try, and he could only pray that the outcome would be in his favor.


	5. The Promise of Help

**A Small Request **

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix

**Note: **Chapter 5! Please enjoy and review!

* * *

He felt oddly empty with her gone, but nevertheless he started his way back to Kalm alone, hoping that it would be the last time that he would have to. Now that the day was set, he had to prepare for it. He was going to ask her. The thought sent a wave of butterflies in his stomach, he was so nervous. But he was resolute in his mission. He was going to try, and he could only pray that the outcome would be in his favor.

That night he slept easily.

He awoke the next morning to discover that he had several missed calls on his cell phone. Usually he would not have even checked it, but the thing kept up with its annoying beeping and Vincent truly wished he could throw it out of the window. Sighing, he searched it until the phone told him that it was Cid who had called him about twenty times. What did he want?

He was going to find out.

Pressing 'send,' he put the device to his ear and listened. It rang twice before a groggy 'hello' answered.

"Cid?" Vincent asked cautiously.

"Oi, it's you. . .Gawd, what time is it?"

Vincent glanced at the clock. "It's five in the morning."

". . ."

"Is everything alright?"

"I'm gonna be a daddy, Vince," he said slowly.

Vincent nodded. "Yes, you have already told me."

"No!" he suddenly exclaimed. "You don't get it. I'm gonna be a father."

Vincent could find no other meaning to it other than that Cid was to finally have a child to look after. His silence, however, tipped Cid off to the other man's confusion.

"Look, Vince, I'm gonna be a father. Can you see me as one? With a child in one arm, doing all that one does? Gawd, my father wasn't exactly an ideal role model to all this. . ."

"Cid, you need to calm down."

"I've been tryin' Vince, nothing seems to work. Damn, I tried drinking, my cigs don't settle me, and I sure as hell don't think anything here could."

"Listen, all you need is advice in reassurance."

"I thought I could get that from you," he sounded miserable on the other end. "I just don't want to end up ruinin' this kid's life! Some father I could be."

Vincent sat down on his bed and thought for a moment in silence. Although he could not see Cid as a potential father, he could not deny that Cid was responsible. He had matured a lot since they first started across the world to destroy Meteor and Vincent had respect for him. Cid just needed help. . .But who. . .?

"How long has it been since you had last spoken to Tifa?"

Cid was silent for a while, perhaps in thought, then said: "Since the night I was drunk. I've already told her the news. Why?"

"Cid, you need help. Tifa works with orphaned children, thus her experience fits your predicament. Speak with her and get the advice you need."

"But-"

"I do not have any experience with children." Indeed, that was true. Most children who got near him cried and ran to their mothers spouting things about monsters and demons. He could not blame them, though, for he viewed himself a monster as well.

"Oh. alright. I swear to the Gods, though, if she laughs. . ."

"Listen to yourself," Vincent let out a small chuckle. "You can handle this."

He heard a sigh on the other end. "I'll talk to her."

He could not help himself. "Good boy."

"Shut it!" Cid laughed, though. "Later though. I'll call you back with the details."

"Yeah."

Vincent wondered, however, at what Cid was actually feeling. What was it like, waiting for a new addition to the family? Was it pure bliss at creating life with another? Would he be able to give Yuffie a child?

Yuffie. . .

He was suddenly reminded of what he had to do and took a sharp inhale of breath. He was to ask her Saturday, ask her the one thing he dreaded to hear her rejection to. . .

"Vince! Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah," he winced at the shaky tone of his voice. "I am fine."

"No you aren't. What's eatin' ya?"

Sighing, he told Cid everything. They sat in silence when he was finished, Vincent fumbling with his bed sheets and the pilot muttering things the other could not hear.

"Wow, I would never have expected this out of you. So, are you nervous?"

He felt like yelling at the man, but calmly stated his 'yes.'

"Need help?"

"Pardon?"

Cid laughed. "Honestly, Vince, this couldn't have come at a better time. Do you need help?"

He was ashamed to admit it, but he really did need the other man's help.

"Yes," he muttered, feeling his face grow hot with his confession of weakness.

"Okay, I'll be there. When did you say your date was?"

"On Saturday."

"That gives us a few days. I should be in Kalm sometime late tomorrow, then."

"Wait, you are coming here?"

"Why not? You definitely need help and I need to see Tifa. See? It works to both our advantages in the end."

Vincent nodded. "I see."

"We'll get you hitched yet!" There was certainly excitement on the other end. "Well, I'll talk to you later."

"Yes, good-bye."

"Bye, bye Vince."

They hung up with one another, leaving Vincent in a state of numb shock. Highwind was going to help him prepare for his outing? Oh, gods, help me, Vincent thought.

Standing up, he peered over at the window. The villagers were planning some sort of celebration that Vincent was not aware of. It was not a shock; Vincent never did socialize much. Cid was coming and so was Saturday. The same nervous feeling returned to him and, this time, brought with it the dull ache of an oncoming migraine. Thus he found his way over to the bathroom and, yet again, reached for the comfort of the pain medication.

Why were these migraines still haunting him?

Maybe it was his punishment for all the things that had happened to him in his life?

Leaning over the sink, he took the pills and closed his eyes, initiating the meditation routine that always followed.

In any case, Cid was coming to help him prepare and he knew that he desperately needed the advice. . .

His hands gripped the sink tighter as it got worse. Nausea swept through him as pain racked his head. Stumbling out of the bathroom, he made it over to his bed where he collapsed and curled into a ball.

The pain would eventually recede.

At least, he hoped it would.

He needed to be ready for her. . .For Yuffie. . .His love. . .


	6. Why?

**A Small Request **

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **I'm having a bit of trouble uploading, so if you see any mistakes feel free to message me! Anyway, enjoy and please review!

* * *

The pain would eventually recede. 

At least, he hoped it would.

He needed to be ready for her. . .For Yuffie. . .His love. . .

Vincent ended up drifting off to sleep, curled into a ball with his head pounding out its existence. . .

_Normally Vincent did not dream. When he did, however, it was never good and that was the case as he lie on his bed in solitude. It was a nightmare, of that he was most definitely certain, and he could not seem to pull himself out of it._

_Mako tanks, hard cots, surgical tools. . .All of which lay around his almost corpse like body. He saw bright lights overhead and tried not to peer at them, but everywhere else he looked was much worse._

_A shrill cackling came to his right._

_"You thought you won, now? How does it feel Mr. Valentine? I wonder. . ."_

_He knew that voice. . .But where?_

_And then it came to him._

_Hojo._

_Hatred welled up inside of his crumpled body, but blackness was overtaking him. He usually welcomed it, however, this time was different. If only he could make his arms move, then he would be able to strangle him. . .Strangle the man that ruined his life. . .The man that deserved a fate worse than even death. . ._

_But the wave of darkness consumed him just as the mad doctor leaned over him, a deranged glint in his bespectacled eyes. He lost himself for a moment, and then. . ._

Vincent woke with a start and was surprised to find himself in his bed in Kalm. Blinking against the light, he peered at the alarm clock. Noon. He had slept for awhile, more so than he had ever after his twenty three year slumber. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. His arm was filled with numb pain, indicating that he had slept on it the wrong way.

His headache, however, had receded.

It was still threatening to come back and Vincent groaned at the thought. Should he see someone about it? It was beginning to interfere with his life. . .

His cell phone let out a tiny bleep. Picking it up, he peered at his missed call.

Cid Highwind. Why would he call?

Right, he was to come over.

Hitting 'send,' he waited as the phone dialed the number.

"Hello?" Came a male voice that he identified as Cid.

"You called me."

"Yeah, always straight to the point with you! Hmm. . .Oh, yes. I'm heading over there now."

Vincent glanced back at his clock with a small nod. "Is there anything else?"

"Nope!" He sounded cheerful, not at all like the nervous wreck he was last night. "I should be there in a bit. I had a head start."

". . ."

"You sound tired."

"I just woke up."

"Really? I thought you were an insomniac, honestly. Well damn, I guess I lost that bet, then. I'll see you later, though."

"Good bye, Cid."

And they hung up. Vincent sighed and sat back on his bed, knees drawn up to his chest. What was happening to him? Was he truly sick? He did not want to think about that. He hated doctors after what happened to him, plus he did not believe that anything would be able to affect his body anyway. Was he not immune to almost everything?

What was wrong with him?

Shaking his head, he got up and headed for his bathroom to take a shower. The hot water running down his body was a much welcomed relief to counteract the stress he had in his life. All his doubts and fears dissolved into steam, allowing him to finally think clearly. Thus he used this time to review the events of the past few days.

Vincent wanted to propose to Yuffie, he could not stress that enough to himself. The more he kept repeating it, the more confidence the action was laced with. All he had to do after that was set up the date. That was met with a few setbacks. One was that Cid had kept ringing in just to tell Vincent that he was going to have a baby. The second was when he called Yuffie only to find out that her phone was dead. He finally was able to ask her out outside of the Seventh Heaven, and face to face. Now was the actual date.

He was nervous again.

What if he did something that displeased her? What if she rejected him outright? What if he was only imaging her advances?

He placed his forehead against the wall of the shower, permitting the water to calm him once again. His heart raced and his head screamed so many what ifs that he could not bare the thought. He, instead, turned his mind towards Cid's predicament.

He was going to be a father, how nice.

Bitterness filled him for a moment, white hot like scolding metal. Why was he able to live a normal life when Vincent could not? Why was his life so fulfilling, whereas Vincent struggled in solitude? Why? Why?

Punching the wall, he stood up straight once again and sighed. This was not working, he could not do it. It was not meant to be. He should not have even tempted fate in such a way. . .

He finished with the routine, then stepped out into the cold air. It did not bother him, he was used to it. He dried himself off, pulled on his clothes, then headed out for the living room. Although he did not much approve of television, he sat down on the couch and turned it on. Refuge from his life and escaping into another's. . .

Sometime later brought a knock to the door. Shutting off the t.v., he glanced back at a clock. Six. The person at the door was most likely Cid. Vincent made his way slowly over, then answered the knock. It was indeed the pilot, all smiles and cheers.

Cid was grinning like an idiot and hugged the older man. Vincent stood still rigid, allowing the man this one simple greeting, then invited the blonde in.

"You wouldn't believe how much I had to suck up to Shera before coming here," He complained, dropping a bag full of clothes and Gaia-knows-what on the couch. Turning back to Vincent, his smile grew wider. "Let's get down to business, shall we? Where to begin. . .?"


	7. Advice

**A Small Request**

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **Chapter 7! Oh, I broke my finger. . .Thus it hurts to type. And school for me starts soon and I actually have Summer Homework to finish, so I don't know when I'll be able to update again. I love writing this fic, so I might update soon. . . I dunno. Anyway, it's getting close to that time! This story is taking very weird twists and turns. . . Please enjoy and review!

* * *

Sometime later brought a knock to the door. Shutting off the TV., he glanced back at a clock. Six. The person at the door was most likely Cid. Vincent made his way slowly over, then answered the knock. It was indeed the pilot, all smiles and cheers. 

Cid was grinning like an idiot and hugged the older man. Vincent stood still rigid, allowing the man this one simple greeting, then invited the blonde in.

"You wouldn't believe how much I had to suck up to Shera before coming here," He complained, dropping a bag full of clothes and Gaia-knows-what on the couch. Turning back to Vincent, his smile grew wider. "Let's get down to business, shall we? Where to begin. . .?"

Vincent groaned as the situation settled in his mind. Cid was helping him. Cid of all people. How the hell was he to survive this without embarrassing himself?

"- take off your clothes. . ."

"Pardon?" Vincent blinked.

Cid chuckled. "I was just checking to see if you were still with me. Don't block me out and listen! This is important."

Vincent felt himself nod as Cid took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling the smoke deeply and letting it out slowly. He sat down on the couch next to his clothes and stared at the wall for a long moment. Vincent was growing impatient.

"Vince, let's be sure on this. You do love her, right?" The question was posed in such a serious manner, that Vincent was taken aback for a second. Cid had turned to face the older man now, the cig suspended between his lips like it had been forgotten.

Vincent nodded first, then quietly spoke the words: "She is my world, the only thing keeping me here and alive."

Had he told too much?

Cid merely cocked his head to the side to flick off the ashes to his cigarette, simply leaving Vincent's response in the air as if that was what he had expected the other to say. The raven-haired man sighed and sat in a chair adjacent to the occupied couch, casting his gaze out the window and onto the street below where preparations for the upcoming festival plowed onward.

"Vince, I'm always here to talk if you need it, you know that right?"

Vincent nodded numbly, regretting ever having opened his mouth. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh, and pigs fly out of my ass. C'mon, I'm not stupid! I thought you were over all of that. . .You know, the past."

"I am," Vincent wanted the subject to pass, and, as if reading his mind, Cid changed the topic.

"You know that clothes make the man, right?"

"What?"

"Yeah. The threads have it all."

Vincent let out a small chuckle. "One could say that you sound gay right now."

"What? And do you have anything against homosexuals?" He sounded hurt, on the defensive. That caused Vincent to outright laugh.

"No, I can not say that I do."

"Then shut up and listen to my advice."

"Alright."

And thus Cid lectured Vincent on clothing, giving the ex-Turk his two cents on the leather and torn cape combo that the man always seemed to wear. The latter just stared at him like the other was crazy and needed to be hauled off just as much as a pyro who had committed several acts of arson or the schizophrenic who ran around in circles naked and yelling something about purple monkeys.

"But it is comfortable," was Vincent's weak response.

It was now Cid's turn to look like he was working with someone completely out of his mind, but less so considering that it was Vincent he was working with after all.

"People will stare, for one," the blonde began, holding up fingers to prove his point, "Two, it's suppose to be a _special _occasion which requires _special_ clothing . . .Like a suit. Yeah, a black and red tux would really look hot on you. . ."

Vincent shot his friend a glare, causing Cid to break out into a wide smile.

"Have you ever seen yourself in a suit?"

"Yes, back in the days that I worked for Shin-Ra as a Turk."

"Touche, Vince, touche. Anyway, what I'm trying to tell you is that you'll totally floor her with a new look."

"I do not wish to 'floor' her-"

"Whoa, I think we're working with two different definitions here, mate. I only meant that you'll pleasantly surprise her."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Cid chuckled. "Okay, clothes. We'll have to go out and get those later. Now, onto the hair."

Vincent's hand shot up to his long black locks. "You are not coming near me with scissors."

"Ha ha ha, you want my help or not?"

Vincent narrowed his crimson eyes at the laughing pilot. He did not much care for his hair, but it seemed to him a complete and total breech to his privacy and being. . .It was not, however, like he really cared for himself anyway, but the thought of the insane pilot walking towards him with sharp, pointed objects really was not his cup of tea. He did not believe it was anyone else's, either. But he had to admit to himself that he really needed the man's help despite the costs.

_Despite the costs. . ._

"Fine," he stated finally. "What about my hair?"

"Have you ever thought about getting it cut?"

"Not particularly."

"That's what I thought," Cid rubbed his chin, disposing of his burnt out cigarette through the open window. "I wonder. . .Anyway, hair aside, your mannerisms are up to par. . .I guess. . .Your social skills, however, are shit."

"I am not partial to people."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know that. . ."

"Do you really believe that I would have to partake in another's company outside of Yuffie's?"

"Okay, maybe not, but later. You'll need to hire a priest, invite lots of people, get yourself and Yuffie dressed for the occasion, call in caterers, maybe even a D. J.-"

Vincent cleared his throat. "Perhaps you are forgetting that I have not even asked her and that this is partially the reason for your visit?"

"A bit feisty now, aren't we?" Cid commented, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "Later, then."

So Cid had confidence that Yuffie would say yes to him. This comforted Vincent, knowing that someone had faith that all this would end for the better, but he still had his doubts. . .

Highwind suddenly yawned and stretched. Vincent stood and left the man for a few minutes, returning with a blanket and a pillow which Cid graciously took and laid out for himself.

"Well, I guess I'm tired," the pilot stated the obvious with a smile. "We'll continue this in the morning."

"Yes, in the morning," one glance at the clock told Vincent that it was far later that he had first anticipated. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Cid let out another yawn then, a few moments later, Vincent heard his steady breathing which signaled sleep.

Treading softly back into his room, Vincent gently shrugged off most of his clothes to a comfortable boxer stage and stared at himself in the mirror. Horrible scars laced his torso at varied shades of pink and red and widths and lengths. He let out a small sigh as he traced one with his finger, the one scar that ran from his naval up to the base of his neck. He did not even want to begin to know what they had done to him. . .But the nightmares. . .The nightmares told him all which he wished desperately to repress.

Why? Why did all this have to happen?

Crawling into bed, he quickly pulled the cold sheets over his body and laid there with an unnatural stillness, gazing up at the ceiling. All he wanted was somebody who would accept him for what he was, _loving_ him for who he was.

And Yuffie did just that.

He turned to his side, a small smile on his face. Closing his eyes, he drifted off into an easy, headache spared slumber with only one thought:

_'Gods, I am lucky to have her. . .'_


	8. A Day Out

**A Small Request**

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **I'm currently writing a side story to this called **Mr.Mom**. It's about Cid becoming a father! You should go and read it. Anyway, chapter eight is up in this one. Thanks to all of you that have stuck with the story and left me reviews! They really do motivate me to write more. I dedicate this story to you guys. Please enjoy and review!

* * *

Crawling into bed, he quickly pulled the cold sheets over his body and laid there with an unnatural stillness, gazing up at the ceiling. All he wanted was somebody who would accept him for what he was, _loving_ him for who he was.

And Yuffie did just that.

He turned to his side, a small smile on his face. Closing his eyes, he drifted off into an easy, headache spared slumber with only one thought:

_'Gods, I am lucky to have her. . .'_

"Cid, are you absolutely sure that you know what you are doing?" Vincent asked, staring down at the floor which was covered in the black hair that Cid, in Vincent's opinion, was hacking off.

"Pfft, of course I don't know what I'm doing," Cid chuckled. "But I've seen it done thousands of times. Don't worry, it'll be okay."

Vincent was not so reassured. He watched as, piece by piece, strands of his hair fell to his feet. It was hypnotizing and almost mind numbing. He had kept everything about himself the way it had been when he emerged from the coffin to remind himself of the horrors of Shin-Ra and his hatred for Hojo and he never truly thought of changing anything.

But, then again, this was the time to change.

He was slowly letting everything go, realizing that he was finally coming to terms with the past. Before he had no reason to look towards to the future, but now. . . Now he had Yuffie. So, sighing, he resigned himself to just sitting in a chair out in his kitchen, watching as bits of his past fell gently to the floor. The minutes ticked by as Cid worked tediously while mumbling phrases Vincent did not understand until, finally, the pilot stepped back to survey his work.

"I'm done!" He apparently was satisfied with his work. Vincent stood and shed the towel that was carelessly draped over his shoulders. He made his way into the bathroom, stopping in shock once he saw himself.

Cid did do a great job. Vincent, however, was surprised at the amount of hair on the floor in relation to how it looked. The blonde merely trimmed and tamed it, whereas the brunette thought that he was going to have to sport his Turk hairdo. It still fell past his shoulders, but was not as wild. . .

"How do you like it?"

"How did you. . .?"

Cid simply chuckled. "You'd be surprised what you can pick up on from those stupid shows women like so much. . . Especially when the woman is pregnant and can't make up her mind."

"I thought she was not that much along. . ."

"Well," Cid gave his friend a slight grin. "Guess I'm whipped, I dunno. . ."

Vincent raised a brow, but said nothing. He took to sweeping up his hair instead and throwing it away. While he did this, Cid lit a cigarette and peered out the window.

"What are they doing down there?" He gestured to the street below.

"I believe that it is some kind of festival. . ." Vincent shrugged it off and set the chair back into its rightful place.

"Festival, huh?" Cid took a drag from his cig, then released it after holding it in in thought. "Why don't you have your date down there?"

"Pardon?"

"Don't they dance and dress up and shit when the time comes? Don't they have games and general cuddle time with the cutesy couples and all that bull?"

"I suppose so. . ."

"Take her there. I think that it would be perfect," Then he inhaled again, lost in thought. Vincent gazed out the window at the decorations and the volunteers stringing it all together. There definitely was the general hype of gaiety surrounding them, the air that he so longed to be immersed in. . . Perhaps that was the best place? Yuffie did like excitement, after all.

"You are right."

The cigarette nearly fell from the younger man's lips when he heard that statement. Normally the two _never_ saw eye to eye on _anything_. Especially when it came to Cid's ideas. Vincent could puncture anything the other said with harsh reality, and most often did. This did go to the pilot's head, however.

"Finally you're beginning to see my intelligence. I'm a god damned genius!" He smiled proudly at this, which coaxed a small smile to Vincent's lips.

"Keep living in your delusional fantasy. Far be it for me to bring it down."

"Oh yeah, oh yeah," Cid was doing some sort of victory dance that appeared, in Vincent's eyes, some sort of barbaric mating ritual. He just shook his head and made to sit down but Cid stopped him. "Whoa, now. Remember what I said about the clothes?"

"What about them?" Vincent inquired. At least the other had stopped his weird dance.

"C'mon, there's bound to be a clothing store here somewhere," With that said, the pilot dragged the sniper from his apartment and out into the harsh, cruel world.

Thus, about an hour and several outfits later (not to mention a very irritated Vincent), he finally chose the outfit he thought best. The women at the clothing store, however, were in mad fits of giggles. They had no shame, standing where they were and ogling a very gorgeous man and his. . . companion. . . as the latter catered to the fashion of the former. Cid, noticing this, turned around and gave the ladies a wide grin.

"So, how do you lovely ladies think he looks?"

Vincent was dressed in the red and black suit that Cid said he was going to put him in, but it was casual and made for comfort. The blonde had deliberately unbuttoned the first few buttons of the soft red undershirt, revealing some of Vincent's chest, but only a teaser for the eyes. The pattern was a subtle red pinstripe, accentuating the dark black of the fabric as well as man's built, but lean, body and brought out his eyes. His hair fell carelessly over his shoulders, framing his pale face and giving him an air of mystery.

A few of the girls let out squeals of delight, and others humbly muttered their appraisal. Cid cocked his head to look back at Vincent, letting the other man see the victorious expression that he wore.

"Get changed, we're getting it."

Vincent went obediently back into the dressing room, coming out with the bundle draped over his arm which Cid more than happily paid for. They then took their leave of the shop, Vincent consciously aware of the stares he was receiving as they left. His companion chuckled.

"Didn't I tell you that you were a looker?"

"I had never noticed. . ."

"Think of it this way, you were always so wrapped up in your past and problems that you never stopped to smell the damned flowers," He stopped in front of a small restaurant. "I'm starved, let's get something to eat."

They entered and placed their orders after they were given a booth. Vincent took to gazing out the window as Cid lit another cigarette. Smelling the smoke, the other man turned to look.

"I thought that, with the child coming, you would quit."

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Vince," he leaned forward. "It's like hell when I try to quit. I get mean and edgy and I end up scaring Shera. It nearly damned impossible for me to kick the habit as much as I would like -no, need- to."

Vincent rested his chin upon the palm of his hand, regarding the pilot and his addiction. After a few moments, and without warning, he tore the slim object from Cid's lips and smashed it out in the ashtray.

"What the-"

"You are going to quit," He said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "All it takes in the end is the will power and motivation of the person."

"Easy for you to say," Cid grumbled as the waiter returned with their food. They set to eating in silence, each lost within their own inner turmoil.

Vincent's head was threatening another headache. He furrowed his brows together. It did not make any sense, why he hurt this bad. . . Why he was _still _hurting. He had begun the healing process, had he not? Then why. . .?

"Vince?"

"Yes?"

"Is there something wrong? You don't look so good. . ."

Should he tell him? Vincent stared at his friend for a moment, contemplating the decision of whether or not he should reveal to the man about his headaches. The again, they were his own problems, not anyone else's, and thus did not want others to be burdened by it.

"I am just fine, thank you."

Cid appeared to be unconvinced. "If you say so. . ."

Vincent gave a curt nod. When they finished, Vincent paid and they made their way back to the apartment. Opening the door brought back comfort for him: he was used to the solitary and almost cold environment that he always dwelled in. Cid automatically collapsed on the couch.

"Sheesh, how do women do it?"

"Do what?" Vincent disappeared into his bedroom with the bag containing his new outfit, returning to the living area empty handed. He then took a seat on the chair.

"Shop for just clothes! Gods, that was the most annoying thing ever."

"You seemed to have been entertaining the young women, though."

Cid gave him a sheepish grin. "Yeah, I guess."

Vincent chuckled, but the pain from his head cut him short. Cid looked over at him in concern. The older man promptly stood up and began his usual trip to the bathroom, but stopped and instead headed towards his bedroom. It would look odd for him to be going off to the restroom after he had earlier told Cid that he was fine.

"Vince-"

"I am going to lie down for a bit," Stopping at the doorway, he turned back to his friend and gave him a small smile. "All this excitement gave me a headache."

He had said it nonchalantly, hoping that the other man would not pick up on his forced words. He then made his way into his room, shutting the door behind him and climbing into the sanctuary that was his bed. The migraine washed over him in full force, bringing everything with it: nausea, throbbing pain, weariness. . . He closed his eyes and stayed inert until, after what seemed like years to him, sleep finally pulled him under.

Little did he know, however, that Highwind was not as stupid as he usually made himself look.


	9. Painkillers and Confessions

**A Small Request **

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **Chapter 9! Cid knows, but what will he do? And the date is just around the corner. . . Please enjoy and review!

* * *

"I am going to lie down for a bit," Stopping at the doorway, he turned back to his friend and gave him a small smile. "All this excitement gave me a headache."

He had said it nonchalantly, hoping that the other man would not pick up on his forced words. He then made his way into his room, shutting the door behind him and climbing into the sanctuary that was his bed. The migraine washed over him in full force, bringing everything with it: nausea, throbbing pain, weariness. . . He closed his eyes and stayed inert until, after what seemed like years to him, sleep finally pulled him under.

Little did he know, however, that Highwind was not as stupid as he usually made himself look.

When Vincent woke up after a few hours he was startled to see that Cid was still awake and had set something out on the coffee table. That was not what shocked him, no, it was what was _on _the small table that did it. Cid looked up at the sound of footsteps and regarded Vincent with an expression of mixed emotions.

"Why didn't you tell me you were ill?"

"What gives you the impression that I am?"

Cid gestured to all the bottles of painkillers that he had spread out in front of the couch. The older man stared at them for several moments, unable to take in the sight.

"How. . .?"

"Well," Cid stood up and turned his full attention towards his friend. "I figured there was something that you weren't tellin' me and, since you weren't tellin' me anything, I went searchin.'"

Vincent shook his head. "No. . ."

"Oh? Let's see. . .Painkillers in the medicine cabinet. Yeah, it's normal for people to have them, but not this many! Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or are you gonna just stand there and keep lyin' to me?" Cid narrowed his eyes at the disbelieving sniper, who stood still staring at the excess bottles that he used to escape from the pain.

Sighing, Vincent lowered himself in a chair and began to message his temples.

"I apologize. . ."

"Apologize my ass! I don't want your damn apology!" He leaned towards the older man. "What I want is the truth, Vince, the _truth_. I hate to be lied to and I sure as hell didn't believe you'd be the one doin' it!"

Vincent drew in a shaky breath, but said nothing. Cid threw his hands into the air and moved away, but changed his mind and walked back.

"Damn it, Vince!" He nearly shouted it in his frustration, but caught himself. Instead it came out in a vicious snarl. "Do you want to know what this looks like to me? Huh? It looks like you have some. . . Some damned addiction! Is that it, Vince? Is that what you're not tellin' me? Because I sure as hell can. . .I sure as hell can. . ." He trailed off once he caught sight of his dear friend's expression of pain and sadness. Calming slightly, he sat on the arm of the chair. "Please tell me, that's all I'm askin.' Please. . ."

". . . I really do apologize," Vincent's voice was quiet, almost inaudible. "I just. . . I can assure you that I am not suffering an addiction. . ."

"Then what is it?" Cid sounded relieved at this confession. "You can tell me."

"You have too much to worry about now. I do not wish to burden you with anything else." He made to get up, but the pilot pushed him back down.

"You're burdenin' me more by not telling me! Especially after I had seen all of this!"

Vincent shook his head, the strain sinking in and taking root. The headache came, pounding behind his eyes, without mercy. Groaning, he gripped the fabric of the chair to try in vain effort to ward off the pain.

"Vincent!" It was a startled whisper from Cid. "What is it?"

Through clenched teeth, Vincent managed to mutter: "Migraine."

The pilot quickly twisted off the cap to a bottle of painkillers after reading the dosage information, then administered the medicine to his friend. The latter took it gratefully, but it took a while for it to take affect. Thus the two men sat in silence. When it was reduced to a dull ache, Vincent shifted his position in the chair and let out a small sigh. He relieved himself of the fabric of his seat, peering down at the floor.

"I have severe migraines," He finally admitted.

"How bad are they?"

Vincent just shook his head. "Enough to make me take all of these," he gestured to the various medicines.

Cid placed his hand gently on the older man's shoulder. "If it's that bad then you need to get help."

"No," The thought of any doctor near his body sickened him. He knew it was irrational, but it always brought up the memories of Hojo. . . "I am fine. I have been dealing with this just fine."

"You haven't! There you go lyin' to me again!" Cid said, exasperated. "Vince, you need help."

"No I do not!" Vincent had not meant to shout, but all the pent up stress and anxiety that he had built up over the past few years was too much for him to handle and Cid had picked at it, exposing it all. After the outburst, however, he felt ashamed. "I apologize."

The blond let out a soft whistle. "You really do need help. . ." He sighed and took out his pack of cigarettes. He gazed at them for a moment, then tossed them in the trash. "Do you have any tea?"

Vincent nodded. "It is in the cupboard above the counter nearest the sink."

Cid patted Vincent's shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen. The sniper dropped his head into his hands and closed his eyes tightly. Why did he lash out at Cid? All he did was express his concern. . . Why was he so annoyed at social outings? Why did he keep getting migraines? Why? Why?

He felt something warm near his cheek and looked up to see Cid offering him a cup of tea. He took it and muttered his thanks, sipping the bitter liquid while lost in thought.

What if he lashed out at Yuffie?

Vincent knew that that was the last thing that he possibly wanted. . . He did not want to cause her any harm. . .

"I've been thinkin,'" Cid's sudden statement caused Vincent to start slightly. "Maybe it's all this stress you have? Maybe that's why you've been so sick. . ."

Vincent peered at him while running a hand through his black hair. "Stress?"

"It makes sense, don't it?" Cid smiled at him. "Maybe after this whole ordeal you'll be better. Happier."

"Perhaps," He whispered into his cup.

The pilot chuckled. "Cheer up! I'm sure she'll say yes! Who wouldn't? You're quite the catch to the ladies."

Vincent cracked a small smile. The younger man's reassurance definitely calmed him a little, putting some of his doubts at bay. Peering up at his companion, he chuckled. Cid nearly fell off the couch.

"Gods have mercy on us all! He just laughed! Laughed!" Cid chuckled. "That's the spirit, Vince. You have to look at the bright side of things if you want to survive."

"Perhaps."

"Anyway, off the subject of life! Do you have the ring already picked out, or do we have to get that to?"

"I have it."

"When was your date?"

"Saturday."

"Well, today is Friday. When is that festival?"

"Sometime this weekend, I believe."

"Then it's perfect!"

". . ."

"The odds are in your favor, Vince!"

"I hope that you are right."

"When have I ever been wrong?"

Vincent eyed Cid. "Do you really wish for me to answer that?"

"Honestly, no. Don't answer that."

"I thought as much."

"Stop bein' so damn cocky with me."

"No."

"Screw you then!" Cid tossed a pillow at Vincent, aiming for the man's head. Vincent ducked out of the way and the projectile found its way into the hallway leading towards Vincent's bedroom. Both men chuckled.

"When are you going to see Tifa?" The sniper placed the cup on the coffee table.

"Tomorrow I suppose," he was staring into the dark liquid. "Do you think I'll be a good father?"

"I am sure you will be."

"Thanks."

"You are very much welcome."

"Anyway, about your date tomorrow. . ."

"Yes?"

"I was thinkin'. . ."

And thus the two stayed up most of the night planning the next day's events. It was only when Cid's head began to droop that they realized what time it was and turned in for the night, but before sleep came to him, Vincent was nervous. The what-ifs crept back into his head and he tried desperately to remove them, but failed to as he saw the validity of what really could happen. It was a few hours later that finally found him in slumber, but dawn was already approaching.

Saturday had come.


	10. Precursor to 'I Do'

**A Small Request **

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **Chapter 10 is finally up. I'm sorry that it took so long, but now I have my last year of high school to deal with. And homework. Anyway, please enjoy and review!

* * *

And thus the two stayed up most of the night planning the next day's events. It was only when Cid's head began to droop that they realized what time it was and turned in for the night, but before sleep came to him, Vincent was nervous. The what-ifs crept back into his head and he tried desperately to remove them, but failed to as he saw the validity of what really could happen. It was a few hours later that finally found him in slumber, but dawn was already approaching.

Saturday had come.

Vincent was nervous. It was Saturday morning and he was lying in his bed staring up at the ceiling while tiny butterflies twisted their way to and fro, metaphorically speaking, in his stomach. He could not remember a time when he had felt this way before, nothing in him memories could compare, so he had nothing to calm him down. Sighing, he turned to his side and gazed at the floor.

He was making the right decision, was he not? He knew that he loved Yuffie with all his being, that she was the only one that he felt truly at ease with, yet he did not know her feelings for him. What if he was just a fling to her and marriage was never her true aim? She, at times, seemed a bit flighty and indecisive. But then again. . .

She had said that she loved him.

They had been dating for a year and all that it had built up now hung on her decision tonight.

Vincent let out a groan and sat up, running a hand through his unruly black hair and peering around his room. His red cape was draped over the back of one of his chairs, he had worn his leather to sleep, and the window was slightly open on the adjacent wall. The room was a bit chilly, but that did not bother him as he stood up and began to pull himself out of the leather. Once he had stripped down to his boxers he slowly made his way over to the closet and slid open the doors. The suit hung suspended on the bar, awaiting its use. He pulled it down and slid the bag off the fabric. Walking back over to his bed, he set the jacket and undershirt on the covers and slid the pants on. The new fabric sliding against his lean legs was definitely a change from the leather that he had always worn since his awakening, but it was not unwelcome. He figured, for a decision of this caliber, that change was almost a necessity. Thus he also pulled on the undershirt. The jacket could wait until the actual event.

The mirror in his room was barely ever in use by him since he did not believe that he needed it and was thrust haphazardly in the closet. He got it out and peered at himself. It was different, that much was beyond definitely certain, and it made him a tad uneasy for it reminded him of the days he spent working for Shin-Ra.

"I have to get over that," he muttered to himself.

"Get over what?"

Vincent turned to see Cid standing in the doorway with a grin plastered onto his lips. The blonde gave his friend the thumbs up.

"Told ya you'd look good."

"What are you doing up this early?"

"It's not early, Vince. It's one in the afternoon."

"That late already?" Vincent peered over at his alarm clock, which confirmed what the other man had said. "I did not know."

"I figured as much," Sighing, the pilot made his way over to the sniper and led him over to the bed where he sat the man down. "You need to relax."

Vincent closed his eyes and nodded. He knew that already.

"Maybe you should spend the afternoon in meditation?"

"That is not nessacary."

"Alright then, this is a matter of Yuffie acceptin' you, then, isn't it?"

The brunette reluctantly nodded again.

Cid chuckled softly. "Listen Vince, it's nerve wrackin,' I know. I've been down that alley. But I know that it'll turn out alright in the end. Yuffie loves you. After all, the girl babbles on about you and, after you guys have spent some time together, she gets this goofy grin on. . .The girl's head over heels in love with you! So calm down, it'll be alright."

Vincent opened his crimson eyes and peered up at his friend. "Do you really believe that?"

Doubt was still clouding his mind.  
"Yes, Vince," Cid gave him a warm smile. "I really believe that."

Vincent returned Cid's smile. "Thank you."

"Aw, it's no biggie. But you really need to relax. If you're so wound up, what's gonna happen with your headaches?"

Vincent winced at the thought.

"See? So calm down. Anyway, I made lunch. Figured you'd be up by now, but when you weren't, I came searchin.' I'd better be off."

"Tifa?"

"Yeah. I called her thirty minutes ago tellin' her that I needed her help. And before you go all wise ass and 'I told you so' on me, thank you."

"You are welcome," He allowed only a smirk to pierce his words.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Cid waved a hand. "I'll be gone and, when I see you again, you'll be one of a set."

Giving Vincent one last smile, the pilot left the room. Vincent stood up once again and made his way out into the kitchen where he discovered the dishes that Cid had made. His fingers gently slid over a fork as he gazed at them, wondering when the man had learned to use a stove for anything other than tea. It appeared to be well cooked, as well.

He sat down and gingerly cut off a piece of a potato, bringing it to his mouth and tasting it. After a few chews, he spit it out in a napkin. It was disgusting. The texture was hard and the taste was. . .Well, unusual, to say the least. He quickly cleared the table and all evidence of the pilot's cooking from sight and set about making a small salad and some tea for himself while making a mental note to never eat his friend's cooking ever again.

Vincent was a slow eater, thus when he finished it was around two. He was not going to pick up Yuffie until six, so he sat down on his couch and turned on the TV. The news was a popular choice with him and that was what he ended up leaving it at. He did not watch it however, opting instead to stare out the window at the festival committee.

The street was where all their efforts were focused and they made a great job of it. Brightly coloured decorations lined the road, booths had been set up, they had a stage in the back towards the hub of where they thought the excitement was going to be, he saw a few people carting wheel barrels full of what looked like fireworks to the back, and he also saw several people dressed up in costumes.

Smiling, he thought of how Yuffie would look in a white wedding gown. Beautiful, he reasoned, with white flowers in her hair and a gorgeous jeweled tiara crowning her. He thought of her walking towards him, a smile on her lips, and his heart leapt a little. She was going to be his and only his. They were going to live together and, if possible, start a family of their own. Vincent was finally going to move on and he wanted Yuffie next to him while he did so.

He lost himself in the thought of his life ahead. He so deeply submerged that he did not realize that the clock hand slid slowly past six and when he finally joined reality once again, it was close to seven. Cursing both colourfully and loudly, he ran to his bedroom to pull on his jacket, then ran out of his apartment to Edge.

When he finally reached his destination, it took him a while to calm his body down. Once he managed that, he casually (or what he hoped to be casually, anyway) walked up to Tifa's bar and strode in. Yuffie was sitting on a bar stool wearing a black dress that fitted to her body, a drink in her hand and chatting happily away to Cid.

_'I hope she forgives me. . .Oh, gods. . .'_

He made his way over to her and lightly tapped her shoulder. Turning, she gave Vincent her beautiful smile and instantly wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You made it!" She smiled. "I was worried that something had happened to you!"

A small blush crept up to Vincent's cheeks as he thought back to what had made him so late. He decided not to reveal that information and instead opted to give her a vague 'I lost all sense of time' answer, which she accepted.

Letting him go, she lowered herself back onto the bar stool and continued smiling. Vincent desperately wanted to feel her arms around him once again as it held all of his reassurance in the simple act, but he leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss instead. His heart beat rapidly as he felt her respond. Breaking it off, he muttered in her ear:

"I love you, Yuffie."

Giggling, she looked up at him with her large brown eyes and answered: "I love you, too."

Vincent smiled warmly and took her hand. "Come on."

She entwined her finger with him. "Okay."

And they left the bar with Cid and Tifa grinning after them, heading off towards Kalm. Vincent's heart was running a marathon in his chest, but he was resolute. The doubts that had clouded his mind before where immediately forgotten after he had heard Yuffie speak the words that he needed to hear.

He was finally going to propose to her and nothing was going to change his mind.

Vincent did not factor in, however, all the things that would go wrong later on that night.


	11. So Close

**A Small Request**

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **I'm so sorry that this took a long time for me to post! I did not know how to go about this chapter, but it is finally complete. Hopefully next chapter will end it all. Thanks to all of you who have stuck with this story! Please enjoy and review!

* * *

And they left the bar with Cid and Tifa grinning after them, heading off towards Kalm. Vincent's heart was running a marathon in his chest, but he was resolute. The doubts that had clouded his mind before where immediately forgotten after he had heard Yuffie speak the words that he needed to hear. 

He was finally going to propose to her and nothing was going to change his mind.

Vincent did not factor in, however, all the things that would go wrong later on that night.

Kalm was bustling with activity, to say the least. Booths were lining the streets, decorated in bright lights and colors, each vender merrily shouting out their wares and games to those passing by in hopes to lure them in. Dancers were present, too, whirling around in their brightly coloured outfits to music that was playing through loudspeakers strategically placed as to significantly amplify the sound. People were happily chatting and laughing everywhere, everyone in general high spirits.

Needless to say this was not helping Vincent in terms of an impending migraine.

Yuffie, however, was completely enjoying herself. She clung to his arm like there was no tomorrow, pulling him along through the crowd and pointing out all the sights she deemed worthy of his attention. . .Which was almost all of the festival activities. The booths in particular caught her attention, thus she dragged Vincent over to a promising one.

"Look, Vinnie!" She exclaimed. "A shooting game! Ooh, I'll bet you're good at it!"

Vincent glanced over at the game. Indeed, it was simple. Sighing, Vincent stepped forward, alerting the man to his intentions. He paid the necessary amount for three shots, which was standard, and took up the gun the vendor handed him. Sighting down the barrel, he squeezed off only one shot, hitting the mark perfectly. The vendor's jaw dropped.

"How did you?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"What is the prize?" Vincent replied, ignoring the inquiry.

"Um, anything," the man gestured behind him.

Vincent turned to Yuffie and smiled slightly. "Your choice."

Her eyes lit up and she squealed, picking out giant stuffed black bear with a small crimson ribbon around its neck. Vincent inwardly groaned, wishing that he had saved that for last. The vendor gave Yuffie the prize and she then turned to Vincent, a large smile adorning her lips.

"Thank you!" She exclaimed before she stoop on her toes to kiss him.

Vincent instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer to him, enjoying the kiss all the while. She did not protest, even leaning into him. The kiss lasted a few moments before Yuffie broke apart and began to pull Vincent off once again.

This time she made it over the booths where food was being sold. The smells were sickly sweet in Vincent's mind, as he only preferred healthy cuisine in order to keep his body lithe and that was only when he was hungry, which, in all honesty, was not very often. However, he knew Yuffie had quite an appetite that was definitely was not proportionate in relation to her height. On this particular night she had found that one particular vendor was selling her favorite funnel cake.

"One please," she told the woman. "Oh, and could you please put the cherry topping on it? That's my fav. Thanks."

Vincent let out a small chuckle which he thought would go unnoticed, but Yuffie was not as preoccupied as he originally thought she would be.

"Are you making fun of me?" She drew her lips down in a pout.

Vincent blinked, then shook his head. "No."

"Sure you weren't! Vinnie, if you don't like me, just say it. I'm a big girl, I'll be able to handle it."

Was she kidding? Vincent could not tell. He shook his head once again. Yuffie smiled and paid for the funnel cake when the lady handed it to her.

"Thank you," she said to the woman, then turned to Vincent with the plate of funnel cake in tow. "C'mon, let's go find a seat!"

Vincent nodded and took her by the arm, helping to steady her. They found a bench tucked between two booths that currently was not being occupied and made their way towards it. Yuffie, however, did not make it. Her foot caught under a wire that lead up to one of the poles with the mounted speaker and she pitched forward. Vincent caught her, but the funnel cake. . . It landed on his face, traveling down his suit into the unbuttoned top all over his neck.

"I'm so sor-" Yuffie burst out laughing.

"I hardly think that my predicament it worth laughing at," the man stated flatly. Yuffie kept up in her fit of giggles for several minutes and only thought to get napkins when she was not crying any longer. When she returned they set to cleaning the poor man up.

Yuffie giggled once again.

"What?" Vincent asked, shifting his crimson eyes up to met her golden ones. She licked his cheek, causing the colour to rise to his cheeks.

"I love you, Vincent," she said, her eyes searching his for some amount of love in return.

"And I, you," he kissed her.

"You taste like cherries."

"Why thank you."

"So much for the funnel cake idea," She cast her gaze out at the sea of people, of whom started gathering in one particular place. "What's this all about?"

"Fireworks," Vincent muttered, already feeling the migraine beating down his brain. He did not know if he would be able to stand the event. . .

"Sounds like fun!" Yuffie took hold of Vincent's hand and pulled him through the crowd until she arrived at a spot that she deemed worthy enough. Sitting down, she wrapped her arms around Vincent, cuddling into him. He embraced her in return.

"Coming through, important business," came a smooth, street-honed voice. A grunt followed after, deeper than the previous speaker. All sounded familiar to the couple, who turned to see who was coming their way.

A very tall redheaded man was carrying a stack of fireworks slung over his shoulders and leading a much taller bald man through a throng of bystanders.

"Not much farther, Rude," the redhead's thin lips curled up into a smirk as he shifted to view his partner, who roughly nodded in return. "Then we get to blow these babies to hell, yo."

"Reno," Vincent breathed the name. It was never good to pair the young Turk up with any sort of explosive, especially not when a whole town was gathered around to watch. Thus he pulled Yuffie farther from their original spot, _just in case_.

A baby wailed in somewhere nearby, causing Vincent to cringe with pain. Yuffie did not notice this, but began to gesture wildly off in the distance. Before a few minutes' time, three others had joined them.

"Hello, Tifa!" Yuffie smiled, embracing her friend.

"How has your date been?" She asked.

"Delightful! Hey, Cloud. Ah! Little Zackie!"

"Hello," the blonde man returned while holding the child to his chest. The small boy had spikey brown hair and inquisitive blue eyes, clutching onto his father.

"Hi," the baby responded, regarding Yuffie with a look of pure innocence, which made the girl coo.

Cloud was watching Vincent, who had grown uncomfortable with every passing second with them there in relation to what he was about to do. "Tifa, let's go find a booth that sells water."

"Thirsty?" She asked.

He nodded, finally tearing his sapphire gaze from the crimson one and taking her hand with his free one. Tifa smiled knowingly and nodded.

"We'll see you guys later! Oh, and Vincent?"

"What?"

"Good luck."

With that, the three of them walked off, leaving Vincent and Yuffie to themselves.

"What did she mean, 'Good luck?'"

"Nothing," Vincent muttered once again.

"C'mon, you can tell me," Yuffie leaned forward.

That was when the first firework went off, the boom tearing into Vincent's head and forcing his eyes closed. Yuffie clapped her approval of it. Several others followed after, each one seemingly louder than the others and all of them twisting through the air, emitting a bright light before they exploded in an array of colors. After twenty minutes, it died down momentarily. Smiling, she peered over at Vincent.

"Are you alright?"

After a few moments, Vincent nodded.

"Yes, I am," he answered, turning to her. If he wanted to do it, this was the time.

Vincent sat up and adjusted himself to where he was positioned on one knee in front of her. Yuffie blinked in confusion, watching him intently. He reached his down into his pocket. . . And it was empty. In desperation, he checked his other pocket. Nothing.

What was happening? He had all of this planned and yet. . .He seemed so _unprepared_. Where was the ring? Thinking back, he remembered having to rush out of the apartment because he was late. . .

Oh Gods, it was still there. . .In his nightstand.

Just the thought of his mistake sent a wave of nausea through him, amplifying the pain that was already in existence. And, to make things even worse, amidst all the panic he felt, the finale of the fireworks started up and everyone around him began to cheer loudly and wildly. Needless to say that he felt as if his head was going to explode.

Did he bring with him any medicine?  
No, he had left that back at his apartment alongside of the ring.

The ring. . .

Vincent was still kneeling before the love of his life with no ring, looking the part of a complete fool. Everything around him began to spin, faces began to blur, and sounds began to dull.

Before he knew it, everything went black.


	12. A Small Request

**A Small Request**

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **. . .Enjoy and Review!

* * *

Vincent was still kneeling before the love of his life with no ring, looking the part of a complete fool. Everything around him began to spin, faces began to blur, and sounds began to dull. 

Before he knew it, everything went black.

When Vincent came to he was lying in his bed with his body wrapped snug in the covers. Peering around the room, he noticed the curtains were drawn open, something he rarely did, and that someone was asleep in a chair nearest to the window that was positioned close to his bed. Upon closer inspection, he deduced that the person was Yuffie.

'_Oh Gods_,' he thought, the desperation sinking into every bone in his body. When did he pass out? How long had he been unconscious? He could not even begin to fathom the time, save that it was currently daylight. Morning, by the looks of the sun's rays creeping in through the opened window.

"Mornin,'" A voice greeted him from the doorway. He turned to see Cid carrying a tray of breakfast. Vincent groaned. "What?"

"I apologize for being the one to tell you this, but your cooking skills are not up to par," the sniper muttered, hiding his head beneath his blanket to keep the sunlight from invading his delicate eyes.

Cid laughed. "I know, I know. I saw all the food you threw out. I guess the cookin' channel isn't doin' me any good, is it?"

"No," Vincent readily agreed. "What time is it?"

"Nine in the mornin,'" Cid set the tray down on the nightstand, then sat down on the edge of the bed. "How are you feelin'?"

Vincent peeked out from the covers up at his friend. "The migraine is gone."

"I'd imagine that it would be. You were sleepin' pretty soundly."

"How did I get back in my apartment?"

"Cloud hauled your lazy ass back," Cid replied nonchalantly. "You seemed in pain, so I had him lie you down in the bed. Yuffie followed."

"Obviously," Vincent sat up and groaned once again. "I failed."

"What?"

"I forgot the ring. Then the fireworks went off and I could not do anything but sit there like an idiot!" It was not like Vincent to rant, but the occasion called for it. Cid chuckled.

"The girl was worried about you."

Another groan escaped the brunette, his hands now in his long black hair. "How do I explain it to her?"

"How 'bout the truth? Girls like that, nowadays."

Vincent gave the man a glare that suggested the man to keel over and die ten times over, but Cid merely shrugged it off.

"All I'm sayin' is that you should really tell her when she wakes up. Poor girl was really worried to death," Standing up once again, Cid smiled down at Vincent. "Maybe that'll be the cure for all your headaches, eh? Ya never know."

". . ."

"I'll be out in the kitchen cleanin' up my pathetic excuse for food if you need me," the pilot winked at Vincent, then disappeared through the doorway.

Vincent sighed and laid his back against the head board. What would he tell her? What _could _he tell her? After all, he had screwed up. There was nothing special about proposing in the middle of the day after explaining why you fainted the night before. . .

"You're up?"

Vincent peered over at the occupied chair where Yuffie sat, now awake, but a bit groggy. He nodded and immediately, before he realized what was happening, she hugged him.

"Oh, thank Gods that you're alright!" she exclaimed, holding him tightly.

"I am alright," he smiled, patting her head.

After a few sniffles, she peered up at him with wide honey-coloured eyes.

"What happened?"

Vincent hesitated, his eyes fixated on his nightstand. The ring was there, he was sure of it.

"Yuffie," the name slid off his tongue like liquid candy, so sweet and slow. "I suffer from migraines."

"Migraines? Why didn't you tell me? We didn't have to go to the festival if you were going to get sick because of it! I mean, c'mon, it's really not that important. . . We could've gone some-"

Vincent placed a finger gently on the chatty girl's lips, effectively shushing her in mid sentence.

"I wanted to go."

"But still. . . If I had known that you were going to get sick. . ."

"That does not change the fact that I wanted to take you there," He said simply.

"Why?"

"Yuffie, there has been something that I have been meaning to ask you. . ."

"Yes? You aren't going to ask me out on another date, are you? Because if you are, it had better be to someplace where you feel comfortable-"

Again he quieted her, but this time with a kiss. She pulled away and mock glared at him with her arms crossed.

"Don't you try to distract me! What do you want to ask me?"

Vincent leaned over to pull open the drawer of the nightstand and extract from it a small box. Yuffie stared at it, watching as Vincent presented it before her with modesty.

"I have thought about it for a while now, longer than I think I could mention, and even longer yet after I purchased this. I just have not had the right. . ._timing_ for this request."

Yuffie could not find any words and thus just stared at the tiny box in his hands. It seemed to her to be the only true secret that he had kept from her and her body began to tremble with its implications. Vincent's doubts crept back into his mind, causing him to hesitate further more.

"I can not truly say how you feel for me, nor can I say if it is as much as I love you-"

"Of course I love you!" she exclaimed suddenly, causing Vincent to start. The small box tumbled from his hands onto the bed in front of Yuffie, who picked it up.

Taking a deep breath, Vincent continued.

"Yuffie?"

She peered up at him, her eyes wide with anticipation. He could see the case tremble in her hands.

"Yuffie, will you-"

"Vince?" Cid poked his head into the room. Vincent gave him a glare to subdue all glares, causing the pilot to choke on whatever words he was going to spew out. "I-I'll be goin' now. . ."

The blonde man disappeared and Vincent returned his attention back to the situation at hand. Yuffie's fingers were sliding over the fabric of the case.

"Open it," Vincent whispered.

She obliged, gasping at the contents of the box.

"Yuffie, will you marry me?"

There was silence for several minutes as Yuffie struggled with finding her voice. Failing at that, she settled for throwing her arms around the man that she loved and kissing him passionately, which he gratefully returned. The kiss lasted for several minutes, neither of them wishing to pull away and end the bliss that they had obtained. Sometime during the moment, Yuffie had muttered a breathless 'yes' and Vincent had slipped the ring onto her finger.

After several minutes, they finally separated, but still held onto the other.

"I love you," Vincent muttered into her ear, a small tear running, unchecked, down his cheek.

"I love you, too," she whispered back, a huge smile dancing brightly on her lips.

"Thank you," he nuzzled her neck.

"For what?"

"Being everything that I have ever needed. . ."

Vincent felt lighter now that the weight of his self-imposed mission had now reached its conclusion. He pulled his fiance closer to him, feeling her heart beat against his chest. It was the best feeling in the world and he found himself wanting it to last forever.


	13. The End?

**A Small Request **

**Epilogue**

By Kris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any part of Square Enix.

**Note: **Here it is, the end of A Small Request! Enjoy and Review!

* * *

It had been some months after the wedding and all Vincent could feel was bliss. He had the love of his life, after all, and that was all that he ever needed, all that he ever _wanted_. Thus he felt as if his life was fulfilled, that if he were to die at that very moment he would have nothing to regret. 

Yuffie smiled at him as she walked into the bedroom after she had changed into her nightgown. Crawling into bed beside him, she snuggled into her love. Vincent chuckled and tilted her chin up to plant a chaste kiss upon the lips that he held in high regards.

"Mmm, dear?" Yuffie said a bit loftily.

"Yes?" Vincent wrapped his arms around her and drew her close to him. He loved to feel how warm her body was against his cold one, relishing in the fact that she did not try to pull away out of discomfort. "What is it?"

"I have something to tell you."

"Oh?"

"Yup," she giggled. "You know I love you right."

"And I, you, but what is it that you have to tell me?"

She hesitated, the smile on her lips growing ever wider.

". . .I'm pregnant."


End file.
